


Induction

by PastelWonder



Series: Alkalize This [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Difficult Relationships, F/M, For the microfic prompt: Induction, Grief, Love on Both Sides of a War, Mechanical Engineer-baby Rose, Reformed(ish) General Hux, Tenderness, loss of sister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:14:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26563444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelWonder/pseuds/PastelWonder
Summary: It's her -their-birthday today.Paige would have been twenty-five.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico
Series: Alkalize This [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931941
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	Induction

Rose's hands shake.

Her worktable blurs, cycles and swells to white water-light. Miniscule parts on her antistatic mat blend and disappear into their background. She can't tighten the screw on the small motherboard she's building, and she can't let go of her tool.

The hanger's empty. Cold except for the heating unit aimed at her little booted feet. She's wearing leggings - the good, wool-lined kind Armitage picked up for her in bulk on a supply run, and a simple white sweatshirt two sizes too-large with the collar snipped out. It sinks softly around one smooth bare shoulder. She's naked underneath. Showering today was a feat. She drug on clothes half-wet. Her hair's in a sloppy side-pony. Pieces crinked and fuzzing haphazardly around her face. A magnetized cuff around her wrist holds her small screws and bolts.

She hasn't moved in an hour. She stands suspended in loss. In time.

It's her - _their_ -birthday.

Paige would have been twenty-five.

"Having a time?"

It's her lover. Soft-voiced, on silent footsteps, ghosting up behind her. If she could blink, or close her eyes, she would picture him. In his Imperial uniform, dull from long wear but immaculately kept. With the First Order insignia patched over badly with a Resistance emblem and her own crooked running stitch. Hair viciously parted, though not as crisp. A rebel strand or two dancing defiantly around his forehead. Shoulders back. _Proud_.

She hates him today.

His competence got her sister killed.

"I said I don't wanna talk about it," she seethes, breathless, soft like a whisper, and blinks.

A tear drips. It meets its fate on the face of her antistatic mat. A small wet _splat_ against endless, indifferent dark.

His arms close around her. It's clockwork - they're two living gears. Teethed together. Spinning in sync. Soul-ticking-soul.

Except Paige will never have a lover.

His big, gloved hands cover her little tattered, bare ones.

"I hate you today," she whispers, as his large body absorbs hers. Pacifies her with its warmth.

"So do I," he murmurs back, chin on her shoulder. Voice, dulcet and raw, in her ear. "So do I."

A oneshot by PastelWonder

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End file.
